the stars are not wanted now
by CommanderEivlys
Summary: Everything has to end one day, and nobody knows that better than Shepard. She'd just thought they'd had more time. Shakarian, one-shot.


"This isn't how it's supposed to happen," she said in a low voice as she gripped his hand in hers, and she noticed yet again how worn and aged they are. Garrus' talons are dull and worn from the years, the scales and plates no longer the young, healthy sheen they'd been sixty years ago, eroded by the battles they've faced and the decades they'd spent together. Arteries and bones stood out from the withered skin of her own hand, and she couldn't help but think that this was too soon, _far_ too soon for both of them.

Yet when she looked into his eyes, they were the same vibrant blue she'd always known, still ablaze with strength and passion and humor, and the calm he had acquired in the years they've spent together. His mandibles flared in that smile she'd grown so used to and it eased her pain, just a little. Then he coughed again, blue blood trickling a little from his jaw; she wiped it away gently with an already-stained tissue.

"How did _you_ expect it to end?" he asked after his coughing had eased, subvocals deeper and lower than they were when they'd first met. But he was over ninety years old now, and Turian voices deepened with age, as she'd noticed with the rest of his family. She didn't reply for a moment, and rearranged the pillow under his cowl before he could ask, noting with half-amusement, half-grief how they still didn't need words to communicate needs and emotions, after all these years.

She tried to soften her features in a half-smile. "Well, we were supposed to go out together, for a start. In the middle of an enemy wave. Going down in a bomb explosion, or anything that went 'bang'. Something loud and blazing."

"Yeah well, it's been a while since we've retired, Shepard," he rasped, smiling again. "That can still be done, though. Let's get our sniper rifles and go chase some Klixen. Might not be a pretty death, but at least you'll get your flames and 'bang' noise."

She snorted. "You've always been the flashy one, Garrus."

"Says the woman who faced a Reaper on Rannoch with nothing but a target marker and the strength of her glare."

"I had the might of the Flotilla behind me, G," she said as her other hand went to the unscarred part of his face. "It's not like a I just yelled at it until it dropped dead."

"That's because you never tried. You should have seen yourself when the Salarian dalatrass contacted you after the war to tell you what a mistake you'd made by releasing the Krogan. I learned a dozen more human swear words that day, Jane. Had to turn off my translator during the most, ah, colourful parts."

Despite herself, she laughed weakly. "Shit, Vakarian, if dying makes you more of a wise ass you might be kicked out of heaven before I join you."

"Nah, I'll keep a low profile. Conquering a bar without you is no fun at all."

She laughed again, even though it half-sounded like a sob. A couple of decades ago, Garrus might have beaten this illness with a few weeks of her pinning him to the bed. Now, his body was too old and wearied by their years in the military to keep up with it. It hurt her to see him go that way. She'd always thought that she'd leave before him, while he took care of the kids and grandkids several more years before joining her. To see him go now, so fast…

She'd been hoping for at least ten more years together. They'd retired from the military only twenty years ago, too old to continue combat as effectively as when they were young, and too disillusioned by the galaxy's politics to even consider taking the high-standing posts they'd been offered. Since then, they'd been spending time together and with their family and friends, at first taking a galaxy-wide tour, doing all the things they hadn't had the time or opportunities to do when they'd still been working or raising their children ("We saved the damn galaxy, three times," she pointed out, "The galaxy owes us a free tour at the very least."). They'd gone to Tuchanka and joined Wrex and Eve on a Thresher Maw hunting tour, they'd tried getting wasted in as many bars as possible, and they'd visited old friends, like Tali (now one of Rannoch's greatest leaders), Liara and Javik (who had somehow, during their time rebuilding Thessia, produced three best-selling books and two Asari twin daughters, whom Javik would admonish during the day but would read to them bedside stories and rocked them to sleep at night), James (still a butt-headed bastard, but at least he used that as an N7 now), Jack, Ash, and all the others. Joker was long gone, dead barely ten years after the war, but then he'd been dead inside since EDI was gone (It wasn't her fault, Garrus had argued later, it had to be done, but it wouldn't stop the synthetic's face to continue to haunt her nights). Dr. Chakwas had passed away as gone as well, fortunately in a far more peaceful way. Miranda and her sister still kept contact, Jacob sometimes visited with his daughter, and they saw Traynor, Cortez, Samara, and all the others once a year, to commemorate the war in theory but really to get all drunken and exchange stories during their time, while trying not to bring up the people who'd been gone— it was still too painful for many, even after all these years. One does not forget Hell when you pass right through it.

Once their tour was done, they'd spent their time on other things. Garrus had finally taken up paint and was surprisingly talented (even though Shepard still got blank looks from him when she'd teased him to 'draw her like one of his French girls'). Shepard still used the firing range, but she started gardening, at first being exceedingly bad at it ("So you can take the Reapers dead on, but you can't get a tomato plant to stay alive for more than a week, Shepard? How exactly did we win the war with you as our commander?" "Hah bloody had, Mr. Van Gogh. Should I mention your first painting?" "It wasn't that bad, to be fair." "When Liara saw it for the first time, she asked us why we'd gotten a flattened husk hanging in our bedroom") but then Shepard was Shepard, in all her willful and dedicated glory, and after six months of failure she could grow fairly healthy potatoes and other types of levo plants. She'd even grown some dextro vegetable, leaving their daughter Armacia no choice but to eat them for their weekly family dinner. She'd moaned and spread her mandibles in a sulking way, complaining as much as when Shepard had forced her to stay on the Normandy during missions, but a forty year old Turian pilot had no choice but to do her duty. Especially when her mother was Commander Shepard.

Looking back on the memories, Shepard was happy of what they'd done with their lives after the war. Still rebuilding and fighting and creating a bright future for others. Settling down together, meeting his family, getting his father's blessing. Finding a Turian infant amongst the ruins, at first planning to drop her off in some orphanage, until her presence became normal on the Normandy and she started to call them Mommy and Daddy. They'd raised her, loved her, gave her a home and an education, formally adopting her when she turned twelve. Of course, any offspring of Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian (biological or not) had to be destined for greatness, and she made them proud in every way. She'd excelled in bootcamp, but decided the battlefield was not for her and chose instead of becoming a pilot. Garrus joked that she might become another Joker, wise-ass humour and everything.

She'd moved out a while ago, but she was still their daughter in anything but blood. When she met a smart Asari commando and brought her home, both Garrus and Shepard described to her all the things they would do to her life if ever she decided to hurt their daughter in any way. Though the introduction had been a little… harsh, they came to love her as a second daughter, and love the three Asari girls born to their union as their grandchildren.

Armacia and her daughters had been here a bit earlier to say their goodbyes. She'd tried not to keen in grief, but one look at her strong, snarky, lively father put to bed once and for all had undone her as she sobbed on her mother's shoulder. Alyssa, their oldest granddaughter, who bore the Vakarian marks on her face, spoke to Garrus for a long time. What he'd told her, Shepard already knew without needing to ask. In the end however, they'd had to leave, with Shepard telling them that she'd call when… When he was gone.

She sat on the floor by the edge of the bed, pressing his hand to her face for a moment, reveling in his scent (musk and iron and the slightest sweetness if she tasted his skin), in the feel on the warm plates against her wrinkled cheek. He stroked her face gently, before bringing it back to the silver strands of her hair. He'd always loved her hair, even back during the fight against the Reapers. He would spend hours in her cabin just combing his fingers against her scalp, catching some tresses and letting them pour between his digits. The gesture gave her a small measure of peace and comfort.

"You know, we never did get that house on a tropical island we wanted," she said aloud, simply wanting to talk. He'd been the only person she could talk to freely, without restraints, with whom she could share her laughter and tears. This small talk made her feel that nothing was wrong, that they would still spend years and years together, always comfortable in one other's presence.

He must have sensed that need, because he continued in a light-hearted tone: "Yeah well, the sun would have burned your fragile human skin anyway. No fun at all."

She snorted, resting her tired back against the bed's frame. "Not to mention we'd have gone mad from boredom within a month. Maybe we would have killed one other."

"Or you would have exhausted me in bed. Spirits, you were insatiable after the Reaper War."

"Yeah well, it was a nice distraction and I don't remember you complaining," she smirked. "Remember when we spent that week on Eden Prime, in that small house? I don't think any piece of furniture survived. And you were sleeping a lot by the end of it."

"Insatiable human," he shot, and she grinned, rising on her feet to climb on the bed besides him. His arms immediately went around her waist as he nuzzled her neck.

They didn't say anything for a long time afterwards, but they had never needed words any way. They'd always been better in actions than actually talk. A hand on his cheek meant the _I love you_s she could ever say to him. The tenderness in his eyes was as eloquent as _I was so lost without you, you complete me, you are the most important part in my life and I'll always follow you_. The way they moved when they made love was far better than any grand declaration of eternal commitment and affection.

They always knew what the other thought. They could talk of everything and nothing and still have the greatest conversations. Oh, they'd had their fights, their bickering. They could get angry at each other, seethe with rage and fury and they took it out in sparring that left both of them bruised and bloody and shaking. But in the end, they were part of one other. Oh, they could do things separately. They could be individuals in their own right, settle their own affairs. He never asked her to put on his colony markings, but she did so anyway. She never asked him to change his name to Shepard-Vakarian when they married, but he did so anyway.

They could live without one other. But they couldn't_ live_ without one other.

And because he knew that, he whispered in her ear: "Promise me one thing."

"Huh?" she stirred.

"I've followed you all my life and I don't regret an instant of it," he breathed in her scent, as though he was trying to memorize it. "But don't do the same. Follow me only when you're ready."

She lifted herself on one arm and looked at him, brown eyes meeting blue in a silent conversation.

_I don't want to let you go._

_I know. I couldn't let you go either. Don't make the same mistake._

_Don't leave without me, __please__._

_I won't. You told me that, remember? __You'll never be alone._

_**Never.**_

_I love you. You are the one thing that went right in my life._

_I love you. You are the only person I could ever trust._

_Stay close to me. I'll be here if you need me. But there are others who need you, and you need to have a life where I'm not here any more._

_I've lost so __much__ already._

_I know. I wish I didn't hurt you like this, Jane. Live. Love. When the time comes, __I'll be waiting__. I always will._

"When I get up to that bar," he rasped. "I'll keep you a seat. I'll keep you tons of alcohol so we can get wasted and laugh with those who are there already. And even if there isn't a bar…" he choked on that last part, and she pulled him close, trying to stifle her sobs. "…I'll be there if you need me, Jane Shepard. You know I will."

She grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him. It was slow, and lovely, and it had a bittersweet taste. Her soft lips, his dulled plates. When they both let go, she tightened her embrace. "Stay close to me?"

He pressed his mouth to her hair. "Right behind you, Shepard."

"I love you, Garrus Vakarian."

A long time later, he felt her form relax and her breathing even, and he knew she was asleep. He was happy about that; he didn't want her to see him go. He knew it would hurt her, as much as it would destroy him in the reverse situation. His time was up.

He felt his own body being claimed by exhaustion and heaviness. People passed in front of his eyes. Mom, Dad, Sol. Friends at bootcamp. C-sec colleagues. Crew members of the first Normandy. His squad on Omega. The Suicide mission specialists, those he'd grown close to. Thane, Jack, Mordin. Later, the Turians on Menae. Victus, his heroic son. Vega. Cortez, Ashley. Joker and EDI, gone after the war. Liara. Javik. Tali. His daughter, proud father of his wonderful, smart granddaughters. Her wife, fierce and brace and a second child to him.

And Shepard. Always Shepard.

So when he did fall asleep, it was with a smile on his face.

Later, he didn't feel his breathing stopping, his heart pulsing one last time, the life abandoning his body. He didn't feel the sunlight filtering through the window, nor Shepard stirring next to him.

He never heard her waking up, never felt the tears she bathed his face in. The blanket covering his body, the friends and relatives saying goodbye. He never felt his body being cleaned and dressed in Vakarian blue and Shepard silver clothing, he didn't even feel them as they carried him to the pyre in the garden.

He never felt his daughter-in-law pressing a kiss to his forehead. His granddaughters squeezing his hand and promising they'd make him proud. His daughter putting his old visor back on his face, thanking him for everything he'd done for her.

He didn't even feel the love of his life pressing her soft human mouth to his before the flames engulfed his body, turning him to ashes and bones and memory.

He was long gone, too far gone to feel any of this.

But a very long (and yet so very short) time later, while he was chatting with Thane and ordering another drink, he felt her gaze on the back of his head and turned around to look at her. She was there at last, back in her armor, skin smooth and eyes as fierce and strong and full of life as ever. When he ran towards her and embraced her fiercely against him, he heard her laughter and felt her arms hugging back and if he'd still had a solid heart it would be bursting with joy, he'd never been so happy, not even in life (and they'd had such a _happy life, _after all the grief and despair and pain. They had lived and laughed and cried and built and loved until their time ran out).

And after a very long or very short moment (but it didn't matter anymore, did it? They had all the time they wanted now), he put her back down, took her hand in his, and led her to where Mordin and Thane and Legion were waiting for her, laughing and smiling and running to embrace her as well. And Joker and EDI were sitting there side by side, smiling too as Shepard rushed to hug them and plead for their forgiveness and sobbed as _they did _(And it turned out that she'd been right, Synthetics did have a soul after all). They all sat together and talked and talked before standing up to move on, together as one.

Shepard took his hand and squeezed, and he squeezed back as they started walking. He didn't know what would happen next or where they were going, but he knew that it didn't matter because he would still be by her side, covering her six just as she'd always covered his. They would always be together.

_You'll never be alone._

_Never._

**Author's note: Okay, so I posted this a while ago on Tumblr and people loved it despite the mistakes and errors, so I thought I'd post it here as well as an edited version.**

I didn't choose Destroy because I_** can't**_** kill EDI and the Geth (Control and Synthesis were my main choices), but I still couldn't help but dream of a happier future for Shepard and Garrus. Though my two Garrusmancing Sheps have different names, I kept Jane so that everyone can identify to this Shepard and not feel as though they're looking at an OC.**

**So here it is, in its cheezy and over-emotional glory. I wrote this on a whim at two in the morning while still drowning in Extended Cut feels, so please don't be too harsh on me, I'm not a native writer.**

**Hope you enjoyed this (and cried as much as I did writing it). If you didn't, please tell me why. Every comment is appreciated and makes me want to write more.**

**Love you all.**


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